My heart skips a beat as I recognize the song I’ve always dreamt of walking down the aisle to.
I’ve never told Jett about that, I’ve always kept it tucked away in a hidden corner of my heart, too afraid to admit that I even wanted a wedding. Too afraid that saying it out loud might jinx it, that it wasn’t going to happen for me anyway.
There’s no way he knew, and yet, choosing the music was the one task Brooke entrusted him with, and this is the one he chose when he thought of this moment.
Maybe I should be upset that it’s being used for this sham of a wedding. But I can almost hear Aunt Dahlia, humming along to the tune, and I know that I’m making the right decision. Excitement dances across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Start walking,” the wedding coordinator hisses, giving me a nudge from behind, and I start my slow walk down the stairs. Seats shuffle as everyone rises and turns to face the end of the aisle.
My heart is pounding. I’ve never had this many eyes on me, especially not like this. Anxiety rises like a lump of bile in the back of my throat as I glance around at the crowd flanking the aisle.
I spot the CEO of Nuclear, Chase Montgomery, whom I only recognize because he was featured on a magazine cover that sat on the coffee table in the café. His face was stained with spilled tea and dried coffee rings. Today though, he’s looking perfect and polished, standing at the edge of my wedding aisle.
On the other side is the rest of our friends and Jett’s brothers. I catch a glimpse of Spencer and Ally dabbing tears from their eyes with a handkerchief. Guilt needles at my chest. All these people came here for me, and I’m lying to their faces.
The confidence I felt at the top of the staircase falters for a second, and I briefly contemplate whirling around and turning on my heel to run back down the aisle.
But then my eyes land on Jett.
He smiles, warm and genuine, creases forming at the corners of his eyes, his dark brown irises sparkle with our shared secret. A strange sense of calm washes over me at the way he’s looking at me.
He’s looking at me like he loves this, watching me walk down the aisle.
And for a second, I can’t tell if he’s pretending.
CHAPTER 22
JETT
I’ve already seenPoppy today. I’ve seen her in her dress, the way the satin skimmed over the curve of her hip, the way it hugged the indent of her waist as I did up the tiny, covered buttons along her back.
Her hair was done up the way it is now, the top layer swept back and held with delicate pins adorned with pearls. They were the gift Brooke instructed me to get her. She said the believability of this will be in the details. I even caught a glimpse of her bouquet on the round wooden table in the entry of her bridal suite.
The surprise element of this wedding was ruined—hell, it’s a real wedding in legalities only.
I never wanted to get married. The fact that I’m standing up here, next to a man that will walk us through a ceremony and will legally bind me to someone else would have been absolutely absurd to me a month ago.
So, the way Poppy looks as she’s walking down the aisle towards me is making my heart squeeze in a way it shouldn’t.Her large brown doe eyes meet mine as the dulcet tones of Moon River carry her down the aisle.
I don’t know why I picked it. Brooke gave me a list of approved songs about a hundred long, and none of them felt like her when I listened to them. Except that one. I heard it and instantly knew it would be a song Poppy would like to walk down the aisle to.
The dreamy, wistful tones felt likeher.
I’ve gotten to know her on a different level the last few weeks, and even more since she’s had to stay at my house.
I’ve seen her when she lets her guard down, I’ve figured out how to make her laugh. I know when she needs to be left alone to recharge, when she wants to curl up on the couch with a comfort movie, when her arthritis is too much to handle and she needs to hide from the world.
She’s become the first person who has truly seen me behind closed doors. Who doesn’t have preconceived notions about me from what they’ve seen in the media.
As it turns out, when your reputation precedes you, life becomes somewhat lonely. Anyone I meet now thinks they have me all figured out before they even get to know me. Sometimes they don’t even bother trying.
Not Poppy.
I knew Poppy saw me the night we both stood in the kitchen at Grady’s house. Even after Mason gifted me a thousand condoms, there was no judgement in her eyes when she looked at me. She took me at my word when I told her the media had it wrong about me.
Now, here she is, walking down the aisle towards me, and there’s still nothing but sincerity on her face.
She reaches the end and holds her hand out towards me. It’s shaking slightly when I take it, small and delicate in my hand. I run my thumb over the back of her knuckles in reassurance, and she offers me a shy smile as she comes to stand before me.
